


I Bury Some of You

by NotManTheLessButNatureMore



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, Who knows what this is but here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 16:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16601099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotManTheLessButNatureMore/pseuds/NotManTheLessButNatureMore
Summary: 'That since you would have none of me, I bury some of you.' John Donne, Funeral.A subtle hum is all that he can hear now, the hearing is the last to go.





	I Bury Some of You

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, I started off just wanting to write some sort of dream sequence and then things escalated! Really not sure how this got from A to B, but here we are. Also, apologies for any spelling/grammar errors, this was quickly hashed out before bed :)

**"That since you would have none of me, I bury some of you." John Donne, Funeral.**

 

 

The light is grey, he thinks, beyond the haze he cannot seem to dissolve. There is a darkness high in the left hand corner that appears to have grown each time his half-lidded eyes find it. His eyes seem to roll about of their own accord, moving with his head as it tilts back and slumps forward. A blur of soft colour shifts closer and then darts back repeatedly, the veins in his neck seem to pulse in time with it. He becomes aware of his shoulder again and something grips it hard, the imprint spreading hot tendrils across his chest.

 

A subtle hum is all that he can hear now, _the hearing is the last to go_.

 

A burst of static crawls uncomfortably from his head, down the back of his throat and spreads across his chest using his ribs as climbing ropes. The static allows some sound to penetrate his ears and he hears a voice mid-sentence but before he can distinguish words or even its owner the sound cuts out again.

 

Without warning something thumps his chest hard and in the back of his throat something lodges deeply. Just as the feeling of choking makes itself present his head is tilted back and he sees that the darkness has grown closer again. It’s only when the thumps to his chest stop that he realises there was more than the first shocking one. Long tendrils block out all light now as a dark shape invades his viewpoint. Darkness falls but the nothingness he was expecting gives way to warmth on his cold lips and a rush of pressure down his throat that threatens to split his chest in two. He wants to push it away, whatever creature is reaching into him and squeezing his heart and lungs. The pain it causes is enough to make his lungs splutter and freeze, soft tissue turning to metal in defiance to the unnatural feeling.

 

The lava that flows through him, spreading now from his chest, pooling into his stomach, across his arms and wrapping around his thighs is excruciating and as the grey haze dims he finds himself looking for the darkness. The soft colour to his side has morphed into a more sturdy shape but as it once more looms over him he knows what is to come and braces himself.

 

Minutes or hours or days pass, he can’t tell how long one moment is anymore, but inch by inch he recognises another sound, another touch, a part of his body that had been forgotten. He feels his stomach muscles clench slightly and the pain increases. He feels his arm jerk, a fiery spasm shoots from his fingers to his shoulder. His lips are less cold now when the soft shadow envelops them once again and the pressure feels different. A sickness stirs in his stomach and his body acts of its own accord as a pressure that’s too heavy for him to bear rushes up through him leaving everything raw in its wake. A moment later his chest practically lifts itself from the floor in one great motion and heaves air in.

 

“Oh thank fuck!”

 

His mouth forces itself open and the entire ocean seems to surge out as he struggles to draw in air between the retching. Everything floods back in too quickly, like every light is neon and flashing in a darkened room and every sound has been turned up to its highest level.

 

“Cormoran?”

 

He realises that he’s on his side but his head is turned, staring at the sky. Grey thick clouds are looming overhead and he feels a light spray of mist on his face. His arm twitches again and the strange sensation between his fingers is sand he realises, as a sharp but short flash of panic spills through him. As the haze clears he sees that the darkness in the top left hand corner of his vision is Shanker looking pale and holding a phone to his ear. He’s staring at him and the look on his face reminds him of another time, one that had a similar feeling of darkness, but his tired brain doesn’t care to make the connection.

 

A heavy drop of water hits his cheek and through half-lidded eyes he sees that the soft colour that had loomed over him is Robin. Her eyes are wide and her face is so close that he can feel her breath on his cheek. Another drop hits his face, this time it catches the edge of his lips and he tastes salt. He fights the call of unconsciousness and strains to keep his eyes open. No words come to mind when he tries to fathom the way she looks. She is framed by the light, her skin is pale underneath the flush to her cheeks, her right hand is pressed against his struggling chest while her left is holding his head up slightly, thumb stroking his cheekbone and fingers disappearing into his hair. Her lips, inches from his, move to his forehead and his eyes drift shut as she places gentle kisses on its centre. Her right hand comes up to cradle the other side of his head and it’s a long moment before her lips withdraw.

 

The distant wail of sirens pervades the moment and Robin sits back, pulling his hand into her secure and warm grip and resting it in her lap.

 

“Jesus Christ Bunsen.”

 

In deference to the pain in his chest he drifts off listening to Shanker telling someone to ‘ _get a bloody move on_ ’. The solid presence of Robin beside him, the warmth of her hand in his and the lips that return to his forehead one last time are enough to reassure him of what’s to come.

 


End file.
